


Joint Venture

by offkilter



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 2x15-Booked Solid coda, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Zoe is a Fixer, more my OTP+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offkilter/pseuds/offkilter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold paused at the door, raising his fist to knock, then lowered it, uncertain. He pulled out his phone instead to reread the text.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Harold, got a project to pitch to you. Come up in 10min and I’ll give you rundown/turnover with John. Expecting you, so just use your key. Don’t be late! </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joint Venture

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Concierge Service](https://archiveofourown.org/works/700149) by [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat). 



> Many thanks for the hand-holding, butt-kicking, encouragement, and beta work from [Jordanisonfire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordanisonfire), [TimelessDreamer2](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessDreamer2/pseuds/TimelessDreamer2), and [cheyennesunrise](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyennesunrise). Without them, I'd have never finished this story--I claim all remaining mistakes as mine, however.
> 
> Also special mention of the spousal-unit for confidence in me and urging me to write, especially the smut if I could make it happen. Close as I could manage, hon!

Harold paused at the door, raising his fist to knock, then lowered it, uncertain. He pulled out his phone instead to reread the text.

_Harold, got a project to pitch to you. Come up in 10min and I’ll give you rundown/turnover with John. Expecting you, so just use your key. Don’t be late!_

He should have insisted on some clarification before arrival, but, frankly, he’d been so baffled by the message that he spent many minutes in confused contemplation over why Ms Morgan was discussing projects when _surely_ she and John were using the room for other purposes. His mind shied from the images that conjured. He’d almost called Reese up to ask what she could mean, but that seemed… inappropriate somehow, possibly irrationally so. Why she hadn’t just come over the concierge desk to discuss it or drop off the proposal, or simply wait for another day was unclear, but by the time he’d mulled over the probable scenarios, he’d be past the deadline given if he hesitated further.

Better to arrive on time, see to the business Ms Morgan had for him, then leave them to their other activities. She had been generous in her assistance; they owed her idea consideration.

Having gained no further insights from the phone, he exchanged it for the penthouse keycard, took a fortifying breath, and swiped the card, pushing the door open just slightly while clearing his throat. “It’s me, Ms Morgan, Mr Reese. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” He stalled outside the door hearing soft discussion.

“... wait, it’s fine. _Harold!_ Hang on.” He kept his hand on the door latch at Zoe’s voice rising to greet him, then dropped again to incomprehensible murmuring. He turned away to glance down the hall toward the elevator. Perhaps he should just beat a hasty retreat and beg pardon later.

Too late; the quick click of heels advancing gave him scant warning before a beautifully manicured hand snaked through the partially open door to wrap around his wrist and pull, followed by a much wider, strong palm on his back pushing him fully into the room past the door frame. The unexpected forward momentum from those dual forces windmilled him solidly into Zoe. She braced, catching him with an _oof_. 

“John, “ she said in slight exasperation, “A little overkill there.”

Harold righted himself, face heating as he pulled his head away from the cushion of her chest. He turned slightly to include Reese in his address, “I’m terribly sorry...” He stopped short, feeling the flush deepen as he realized Reese was shirtless as he prowled silently down the hall, gun in hand in anticipatory alert.

Reese’s head cocked toward the elevator, listening, while his eyes scanned the entrance to the air ducts and into nonexistent shadows in the elegantly lit, but minimally decorated foyer. Keeping his gun at the ready, he continued his scrutiny while he padded back on bare feet, then closed the door with the merest whisper of sound. “You okay, Finch?” he asked, voice pitched low, gaze narrow as he inspected Harold for signs of distress or harm. The gun stayed up. “Any trouble?” 

“No, I’m fine, nothing’s wrong. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Harold reassured, “It’s just, I, I thought you would both be expecting me to, to discuss…” He stumbled to a halt in growing consternation, certain now that there’d been an enormous misunderstanding somewhere. He fumbled for his phone. 

Zoe put her hand to his chest, stilling his search. Her hair was a little mussed, lipstick smudged, faint red marks on her neck, but she said earnestly, “I _was_ expecting you after my text, Harold. Was planning on bringing John up to speed as soon as we got somewhere private but then,” her eyes flicked to Reese placing the gun on the side table, lingering on his bare chest impishly, “things got a little distracting.”

“Indeed,” Harold said faintly, at a loss. “I won’t be keeping you then. Ms Morgan, I’m sure whatever it is can wait till …” He tried to gather some scraps of dignity, turning toward the door to disengage from her touch, but she tightened her hand on his lapel to stop him. Reese frowned at that and stepped closer. Zoe rolled her eyes at the move.

“Come on, Harold, after all of this I think you can call me Zoe. I admit, this was a little impulsive, could have planned it better, but what the hell.” She relaxed her grip from Harold's lapel and started stroking the wrinkles of the fabric smooth. “Here’s the deal..."

Reese blinked slowly, watching her fingers, then quirked an arch eyebrow at her. She tilted her head to the side to grin at him while she explained. “Strictly freelance is my thing, but  you guys have a very nice dynamic."

“That we do,” Reese nodded, holding her gaze, a corner of his mouth pulling up. Harold’s bewilderment increased as they leaned in toward each other, heat between them nearly shimmering in the air. Still, her hand continued softly petting Harold’s chest, and Reese’s body brushed his from hip to shoulder now, sending little shocks up Harold’s spine everywhere either of them touched. 

“So I was thinking, since it has been such pleasure working with the pair of you,” Zoe shrugged a little, “that spending a little … _recreational_ time with both of you might be fun too.” Here she smirked at Reese. “Not that I had any complaints about previous one-on-one encounters.”

“Always nice to hear,” Reese said, amusement obvious in that smooth rumble, “Keeps my Yelp score high.” The mirth faded from his expression when he looked at Harold, who was blinking rapidly back and forth at them. “Harold?”

Zoe’s smile slid to concern as well. Her palm flattened across his rabbiting heart in reassurance. “Harold? You know there’s no pressure here, right? The lead-in was a miss, but this is all for some mutual fun, unwinding. No worries if you want to give it a pass.” Her voice dropped dark and inviting, “But I think it’d be a very rewarding  if you stayed.”

“You want, I’m, I’m _extremely_ flattered and, and it’s just...?” Harold floundered, unable to formulate anything more coherent. Air suddenly seemed in short supply. He consciously took a deep breath and licked his lips, watching hers curve upward encouraging him to continue. The heat of Reese’s body was a flame burning away the oxygen at his side. He swayed toward them and rocked back again. “I don’t think it would be very, I wouldn’t want to presume ...”

“Not a presumption; this is an explicit invitation,” Zoe assured. She paused for a moment, obviously expecting him to volley back some sort of response, but his feet and arms and tongue were sudden lead weights. Her fingers resumed their careful petting. He shivered. She pulled her hand back and tapped a nail to her lips thoughtfully. Harold didn’t move.

"Tell you what. How about you just sit down with us and think about it, just see if relaxing helps you make up your mind?" Head tilt toward the settee. “We could all get a little more ...comfortable?” She paused again, but seemed to realize he was foundering. Zoe came to a decision and reached out toward his face with a slow deliberateness. He attempted to brace instead of backing away, but before he could determine if she was reaching for the knot of his tie or his glasses, he flinched. Her hand never made contact as it was suddenly engulfed in a large, gentle fist.

"No pressure," Reese reminded in soft reproof, pulling them both back from Harold as he brought their hands down. Zoe sent a suitably rueful look toward him. 

The lack of body contact cleared Harold’s head slightly, and he realized that they’d angled themselves so that he had an unobstructed exit route; just a few steps to the door and he could leave this confounding situation behind. His feet felt rooted.

“It’s all right, I don’t mean to be skittish,” he apologized to her, then addressed an increasingly somber Reese, “John, I wouldn’t want to make this, are you, are you completely _certain.._.?” He couldn’t finish the thought to himself, much less to Reese, and distress closed his throat. 

It wasn’t that he’d never caught the eye of a flatteringly attractive person before, nor had he always shied away from the opportunities which had cropped up in his life more frequently than a cursory survey of him might suggest likely. There was certainly nothing unappealing about the idea of spending the night with these beautiful, uniquely talented people. 

But never before had such an audacious offer been thrown his way when the repercussions beyond could so adversely affect the closest relationship he had in both work and friendship. John was often startlingly frank about his emotions--Harold envied that ability at times--but he’d always been exceedingly discreet about his trysts with Ms Morgan, and if there were any others during their partnership, Harold was unaware. Risking a very workable relationship with Ms Morgan could possibly be acceptable for a pleasant distraction. Losing equanimity with John was not. 

Harold’s mind was rapidly generating a flowpath of possibilities, reflecting on shades of meaning in word choices and expressions, compiling and ranking probability consequences of all likely scenarios. While most developments faded into pleasant enough endings, the bad outcomes of ruined trust and jealousy or even simply deep, abiding discomfort insistently pushed forward in horrific graphic detail. And yet, there was such a yearning to believe the former rather than the latter would prevail. 

“Harold?” The tone was careful, as was the warm weight of Reese’s hand on his shoulder. Harold pulled himself out of the dizzying spin of disaster calculation to focus on the concern on Reese’s face. “No pressure, we mean it. I’m...” he paused, obviously considering how to phrase it, then smiled down softly. “I’m highly _comfortable_ with you being here. But if you’re not, for whatever reason, that’s fine too. Either way, you and me, we’re good. This is not a problem.” 

The sincerity in his tone and calm regard relaxed a knot of tension in Harold’s gut. His lungs had room to expand. He clasped Reese’s arm in relief, the unexpected euphoria threatening to overwhelm him in a completely different manner than moments before. He shifted focus to Zoe. Her dark eyes still showed contrite concern, though that was lifting as she watched him recover his composure. He straightened up, shifted his shoulders back, and smiled at her.

“In that case, I’m more than honored.” He lifted his other hand toward her in courtly offering, and Zoe immediately moved into his hold, her arm sidling around his waist under his jacket. 

“I admit, for some reason, I imagined John would be the one thrown by all this and you the smooth talker here,” she grinned at him, tilting her head invitingly. He huffed indignantly and captured her teasing laugh with his mouth.  He deepened the kiss as Zoe pulled him closer,  Reese’s hand stroking up and down his spine. When they broke apart for air, her face was flushed, lips parted breathlessly, but she managed to laugh again. “Well, I guess you _are_ a silver-tongued devil.”

“Really,” Reese said, clearly intrigued, curving in so he could lower his head to Harold, then hovered just shy of connecting. His lashes were impossibly long at this distance. Reese murmured almost against his mouth, “This okay?” 

Instead of answering, Harold brushed his lips against Reese’s once, twice, and the third time Reese pushed into the kiss with a groan. Distantly, Harold noted that Reese’s naked chest was indeed quite distracting, as was the curve and flex of the smoothly muscled back beneath his palm. Zoe made a hum of appreciation into Harold’s ear watching them. The soft pressure of her breasts against his side increased as she leaned in to cup his rear and squeeze firmly. From Reese’s sudden intake of breath and forward hip thrust, it seems she’d done the same to him. The resulting threeway full body press was intoxicating.

Reese eventually lifted his head from Harold, slanted a sly look at Zoe while tugging her closer to nuzzle . “Taking liberties there, are we?”

“The whole point of asking was to take liberties,” she pointed out, tucked under his chin, completely unrepentant, her fingers busy trying to tease apart the knot of Harold’s tie. This time he reached up to assist, pulling it loose and thumbing the first two buttons at his neck open. Zoe hummed again in approval, then turned around, pulling her hair up to give him access to the back of her dress. Harold obliged, the zipper purring down, then let his fingers echo that line to investigate the newly bared skin. Reese watched indulgently over her shoulder, helping hold up her hair, then bent to gently play bite where shoulder met neck. She arched into their touches and moaned, wobbling a little in her stilettos. Reese gripped her shoulders while Harold steadied her at the small of her back 

“Hey, guys, not that you aren’t doing great with the teamwork, but why don’t we move this over a few steps so we can get out of these?” she proposed, stepping out of her heels and turning to clasp each of them by hand with an encouraging tug toward the enormous plush bed.

Reese was smiling, but his eyes sought Harold’s without stepping forward. Harold nodded, touched Reese’s elbow with his free hand, and allowed them both to be led, “An excellent suggestion.”

Some time later, Harold plopped back into the downy soft pillow and tried to catch his breath. He really should have kept up with that workout regime John had sketched out for him, he thought ruefully, but the languid pleasure rippling through him cushioned that thought from any real sharpness.  Zoe’s head was on his shoulder, panting a little herself, while Reese was on the other side of her, his arm draped heavily across them, hand caressing one, then the other body randomly. 

A soft chime sounded from the nightstand.

“Oops, talk about timing!” Zoe’s head popped up, and Harold got a mass of hair in his face and drag of soft breasts over his chest as she reached over him to grab her phone. She sat up, making thoughtful noises as she fiddled with the screen, then swung her legs over the side to stand. 

“Really wish I could stay longer, but I did tell you my phone wasn’t letting up. Set a do not disturb up for as long as I thought I could get away with,” she sighed, then surveyed them smugly. “Gotta say, this was worth the backlog in work. Be back in a minute, guys.”

She scooped up her clothes and sauntered toward the bathroom, Harold watching in appreciation until she was out of sight in the other room. He caught Reese’s eye as his gaze followed the same path. Reese gave him a sleepy blink. “Nice view this room’s got.”

“I have to concur,” Harold said, giving another glance toward the bathroom, not the spectacular night skyline through the panoramic windows. Turning back, he saw Reese on his side looking at the space between them left by Zoe’s departure, hand next to but not quite touching Harold. His fingers twitched, then Reese drew a breath, held it a moment, and let it out in a controlled exhale. When he looked up at Harold again, he smiled faintly and leaned back against the headboard. The room suddenly seemed cooler as their shared body heat dissipated.

Slightly unmoored by the chill, Harold scanned the room and snorted as he surveyed the evidence of their recent activities. At Reese’s double eyebrow raise, he gestured encompassing the tableau, “I admit, for all the unusual situations we’ve gotten ourselves into, this is not one I ever envisioned.”

Reese’s lashes dropped for a second, face still, then he tucked both hands behind his head, elbows akimbo, to smirk teasingly, “You think this is something I imagined would ever happen?”

Harold chuckled, “I suppose ‘there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in our philosophy.’”

“Hold on there, Hamlet,” Zoe said, returning in a remarkable short time, hair and makeup magically refreshed, dress shrugged on, fiddling with an earring as she padded over. “Let’s not get all Shakespearean here. That always ends in a wedding or a funeral, and I’m not sure we need either at the moment.”

She tapped Harold’s arm and turned her back to him, pulling her hair up. He obliged with the zipper again, pulling it up snugly while taking care not to catch any loose strands in the teeth. She turned around and smiled in thanks, then immediately frowned taking in their relative positions.

Sitting on the bed next to Harold, she sighed, slid a hand into his, then reached the other arm over him, wagging her fingers. Reese tilted his head, then leaned forward to place his hand in hers as well. She tugged till their hands were in her lap, Reese allowing himself to be rolled up snug against Harold’s side.

“Confession time,” she said, thumbs stroking theirs. 

“Oh?” Reese went very still; Harold could feel his torso tensing. 

“Nothing sinister, I swear; I save those schemes for when I’m out of your sight,” she blinked, eyes wide in faux innocence, then grinned. “No, I just knew when you suggested “another round” downstairs that I’d have to go soon, and I didn’t want to leave you high and dry after.”

She directed the next to Harold, “You’re probably well aware, but John’s a very…tactile person.”

“I have noticed that trait, yes, of course,” Harold said, distracted by Reese’s continued reserve.

“Well, I can’t stick around tonight, so one reason I invited you up was for you to stay to bask in the afterglow.” Zoe leaned in close, voice dropping into sultry appreciation. “I’ll admit, everything else far exceeded expectations. You are certainly full of surprises, Harold.”

She kissed him warmly, then turned to do the same to Reese, who didn’t balk despite the continued low level tension Harold could still feel along his side.. She sat back from the kiss with a contented hum, dragging Harold’s arm across Reese’s shoulders, then patting it in place. With just a minor hitch, Harold started a firm stroking down his back. Reese’s lids lowered with another long exhale, and much of the coiled tension flattened under the touch.  

“I love it when a plan comes together,” Zoe said, satisfied. She got up, giving Reese a playful smack on the rump. He twitched hard, then shot her a half-hearted petulant glare.  “Bask!” she commanded, unrepentant. 

She stepped into her heels, smoothing out the skirt around her hips as she settled into the stance, and tucked her purse under her arm. She gave them a fond look, “Again, always a pleasure, you guys. You have my number if you need me, though I’ll be busy for a while. Keep me in mind for any _encore_ performances too,” she winked, then smartly about faced and clicked out the door, phone already at her ear.

The door was pulling to, then opened again suddenly for a hand to snake in and nab the Do Not Disturb sign hanging inside and yanked it out of sight, then closed firmly. 

“Is she always so…energized afterwards?” Harold said, dazed.

“She’s really not into afterglow,” Reese agreed. He hesitated, then added slowly, “You don’t have to be either, you know.”

Harold studied him while continuing to pet, looking for signs that Reese was hinting at a wish for him to depart. Instead, despite his words, Reese hadn’t moved away, his body slowly melting into the gentle massage.

“Not a problem. I’m also highly _comfortable_ being here,” he assured firmly. Reese sighed, dropping his nose into the hollow under Harold’s ear to nuzzle, sliding a hand under Harold’s back , curling around him, blanketing Harold with warm weight. Harold felt the heat sweep up, catching at his throat and behind his eyes. 

“As a matter of fact,” he tried, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly, “I find I can’t imagine wanting to be anyplace else in the world.” He shifted to press his lips to Reese’s temple.

Reese clutched him hard, face pressed into Harold’s neck. After a few ragged breaths, he started kissing his way up, pausing at Harold’s ear to growl, “That’s good, because I might need a note for my boss. I have a feeling I’ll be showing up late for work in the morning.”

Harold shivered. “I think that could be arranged.”

“We should probably send Zoe some thank-you flowers.”

“That could be arranged as well.”


End file.
